


Chocolate Cake

by astridht



Series: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor [2]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Crankiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Youtuber RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, First Time Blow Jobs, Hair-pulling, Hook-Up, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shameless Smut, Smut, Weed, i wrote this at 3 am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astridht/pseuds/astridht
Summary: Is being inebriated and horny a good combination? Maybe try to ask Mark or Ethan...
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015591
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Chocolate Cake

**Author's Note:**

> This work is published creatively and is not a reflection, accurate depiction of nor intended in disrespect towards the persons mentioned; their friends; their family or their romantic partners. Please do not send this work to any of the aforementioned persons and remember to treat people with kindness.
> 
> \- Astrid

_“What else do you have?”_ Mark asked, words slurring slightly, his cheeks red and his body heavy. The two had gone to the store and bought a couple of fruity Monsters and a small bottle of Smirnoff vodka which they had started out with, the big cans spread everywhere and the small empty bottle standing on the floor. Neither of them normally drank Monster, but as all the Red Bulls were sold out they decided that they could try another kind of energy drink. The mix of fruity beverages and strong liquors were drifting through the air. The only sounds being Mark’s own heavy breathing, the low music in the background and Ethan’s footsteps in the kitchen. 

Mark hears him open the refrigerator which is followed by a barely audible sigh and the sound of a cabinet opening, presumably the one with the strong liquors in it.   
  
_“I- I have a couple of White Claws, ehm... some ciders, red wine, beer, Jameson and vodka.”_ Mark could hear the clanging of bottles and cans of cider, the sounds of the fridge and the cabinet opening and closing repeatedly, as if the contents of them are gonna change or as if Ethan keeps forgetting what the contents of them are, and it’s probably the latter of the two.   
  


_“Jameson specifically? Can you bring that and a couple of beers?”_ Mark yelled and as soon as he did he saw Ethan stick his head out from the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowing as he playfully frowns, _“Why do I have to do everything?..”_ He asked in his “baby voice”, the one he would normally use when talking to Spencer.

 _“Because it’s your place! Also, do you have any more chips?”_ Mark threw back at him, grinning. He always found these kinds of moments endearing. _“Fine...”_ Ethan sighed, laughing softly a couple of seconds after. Mark leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in everything. The music was on, the volume just low enough so that they could have actual conversations.

He could hear the way Ethan dropped the caps from the various different bottles onto the countertop, the shuffling of his feet against the cold kitchen floor tiles. Mark opened his eyes to the sound of ruffling chip bags, but when he noticed that the ruffling was from Ethan taking them out of the cabinet and throwing them at Mark he tried to duck, failing as he wasn’t fast enough and ending with a plastic bag hitting his face. It wasn’t so bad, but it definitely wasn’t the equivalent to the softness of the Wubble™️.

He could hear the younger man bursting into laughter, he cackled as he nearly fell to the floor, using the last amount of energy he had to grip the countertop to steady himself. Now it was the older man’s turn to frown. Earning a soft giggle from the younger as he stood up again, walking further into the kitchen again. Mark couldn’t see him until he walked out again, this time with a few beers and two White Claws in his arms. His cheeks red, just like Mark’s.

His skin looked soft and he was glowing, buzzing from the copious amounts of alcohol in his bloodstream. Mark had to actively stop himself and look away unless he wanted sweat starting to form and cheeks getting even redder. The younger man putting the drinks on the coffee table, giving Mark a watery smile before simply turning around to return to the kitchen. Mark couldn’t help but look. It was something he had always tried to push away but this time he just couldn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he just didn’t want to this time.

The older man had often admired his best friend’s form, the soft lines and curves and little chub on his stomach, but he couldn’t forget his best _asset_. His ass... and God, if there was any topic that was nearly always brought up during Unus Anus, it was Ethan’s ass. Whether it was Mark, Amy or the man himself, it was often, _way_ too often. Whether it was a stray joke occasionally, or a whole video. What he would do to it... no, what he would do to _Ethan_ was sinful. He ignored it for now though, as he felt that he was violating the younger man, even though there had never been any talk of that before. Mark was also straight. At least he thought he was, as that’s all he’s known for 31 years. He was pretty sure Ethan was too as he had only talked about having girlfriends. The younger man did admit to kissing guys and said in one of his videoes that “sexuality is a spectrum” though...

 _“I’m gonna go grab a glass and the whiskey!”_ Ethan exclaimed as he practically ran to the kitchen. Mark leaned forward and picked up a can of White Claw, he hadn’t tried one before but wanted to see why this was practically the only thing the younger man drank. He only brought two into the living room, so Mark hoped he wouldn’t mind him taking that can, he could always go get a new one for Ethan from the fridge. Mark pushed up the tab with his index finger, hearing the satisfying sizzle that was due to the carbonation of the seltzer. He lifted the can to his lips. Fruity, but just a hint. It was very refreshing compared to everything else that they had drunk, much milder. Mark took a sip more and leaned back against the couch, savouring the flavour.   
  
  


Mark swore that it had been 10 minutes since Ethan left to go get the whiskey glass and the Jameson.

 _”Hey... what’s taking so lo-”_ Mark asked softly, as he was mid-standing up, Ethan emerged from the kitchen.

A joint in his left hand and a lighter in his right hand. He stopped to light the joint. Burning, or _roasting_ the end with the flame while rotating it, bringing it to his slightly plump, pink-tinted lips while putting the lighter in his back pocket. Closing his eyes, he took a long drag and inhaled it. He was savouring the hit the same way that Mark had just savoured the sip from his White Claw. Not noticing Mark at all, and he was thankful that the younger man had his eyes closed so that he couldn’t see his jaw on the floor. His eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, or _HeeHoo caught by a flashlight_ you could say.

Sadly, Mark didn’t have enough time to pick up his jaw as Ethan opened his eyes which then found his own instantly.

 _”What?”_ Ethan mumbled softly, taking the joint out from between his lips.

Mark had never felt both more sober but also blackout drunk in his entire life.

 _”What?!”_ He now asked again, giggling as he jogged over to the older man, throwing himself in front of him on the couch. He punched Mark’s shoulder lightly, earning no sound though.

 _”I-”_ Mark swallowed. _“I didn’t know you smoked...”_ Ethan’s face dropped instantly, quickly removing the joint from between his lips, coughing a tiny bit. Mark couldn’t decipher the emotion behind the man’s eyes. Shame? Confusion? Guilt?

 _”I- I thought, thought I had told you?..”_ He declared softly, uncertainty in his voice. That was confusion, definitely confusion. Ethan quickly switched the burning joint to his left hand and let his head fall to his now free right hand, rubbing his temple.

Ethan exhaled,- _”I, ehm, I originally started because of my anxiety but... but I like the effects it has, so now I just do it whenever I feel like it, I guess?.”_ Mark could tell that he wasn’t sure how to explain it.

 _”When did you start?”_ Mark’s demeanour had softened and now all he could think of was to listen to his best friend.

 _”A couple of months ago...”_ Ethan brought his joint back up, he didn’t take a puff or anything though, he just looked at it while it slowly burned away, his eyes following the smoke going up.

 _“Don’t worry, you can smoke”_ Mark said, giving Ethan a reassuring smile. He hesitantly brought it further over, now between his plump lips again. He inhaled while closing his eyes. The older man could see the way his chest was rising and sinking with every breath he took, the sizzle of the joint burning away sounding like a small fire. Ethan knew that Mark wasn’t interested in getting a hit or anything. Mark had told him on many occasions that we wasn’t the type, he had never smoked anything a day in his life and getting drunk was also a rare occasion, an occasion just happening to be today.

Mark smiled widely as the younger man let out a content sigh along with some leftover smoke. He liked seeing him happy, content, relaxed, and those were probably only a fraction of all the emotions he was feeling right now.

 _“Why haven’t I noticed before?”_ He asked Ethan. Ethan coughed softly before answering.

_”Probably because I don’t smoke in public places, I- I don’t like it. People don’t go to the park for someone to blow smoke in their face, they go to the park for fresh air. When I’m in public places I just use edibles or THC drops, depending on why I need it.”_

_Mark cut in. ”You got edibles too?!”_ He exclaimed, gripping the younger man’s shoulder, shaking them back and forth and earning an adorable combination of wheezes, giggles and long sighs. _“Where’s my little Cranky bo-”_ Mark didn’t even get to finish his sentences before Ethan practically threw whatever was left of the joint in between his lips before pinning the older man’s arms over his head on the couch. Naturally straddling him. _“Do NOT call me Cranky!”_ He warned with a fake threatening voice, pointing his index finger at Mark’s face. He then switched his joint back to his hand.

He was on top of him now, breathing into his face. He could smell the mixture of fruity drinks, salt and vinegar chips, and now prominently, weed. Their faces were so close, Mark was convinced that if he tilted his head even a tiny bit up their foreheads would touch, and that would lead to Mark losing all self control and he knew that he couldn’t afford to do that. Mark cleared his throat.

”Hey, um. Your- ” Mark pointed to Ethan left hand which was still holding the joint, burned down to a roach now. The little bud nearly touching the couch. Mark wanting to be _the amazing friend that he is_ , and warn Ethan so that he wouldn’t have to tell the firefighters that he set the house on fire with _a joint._

 _”Oh shit-”_ The younger man exclaimed softly. Quickly moving his hand closer to his body. his eyes flickering from the spot where the joint had been to check if it had left a burn mark, and to the actual joint, realising how short it was now as he had just let it burn away.

Mark’s eyes fixated on Ethan, carefully examining each feature. His soft skin and plump lips. His bushy dark brows and hazel almond eyes. His soft dark brown hair, proportional nose, and the silver hoop Mark himself had pierced on him. The stubble enhancing his top lip and jawline so subtly, and his acne scars adding intricacy to his complexion. Proving that a person’s complexion doesn’t need to be clear to be stunning.

Mark’s eyes traveled down the younger man’s neck and shoulders, slightly visible because of wide neck on his white T-shirt, unmarked. Now down to arms, muscular but soft, the stark contrast of his tattoos against his pale skin. His big boney hands, _as he called them_ , fingers delicately holding the joint, the black and white contrast coming back, black nails and off-white joint. Ethan had a little plate on the coffee table where he put out the roach. Mark swallowed thickly.

”Ethan?” 

His eyes flickered up to meet the older man’s.

”What?” He mumbled softly.

”You forgot the whiskey” He laughed.


End file.
